


Valhalla

by Volla (The_Joker_stole_my_mind)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Dubious Consent, F/M, Punishment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Joker_stole_my_mind/pseuds/Volla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has taken over ruling Asgard in the guise of Odin, but one clever servant recognises his true identity. She must be punished, but how?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valhalla

The great hall of Valhalla was chilly, and the great fluted sandstone pillar against my bare back felt rough and uncomfortable. The tattered remnants of my linen tunic were held around my waist by my fine leather belt, preserving what little remained of my modesty. The rope binding me to the column from wrist to wrist was chafing my skin.  
Loki had dismissed the guards and servants before casting aside Odin’s physical form, and was now lounging on the Allfather’s throne in his comfortable, insolent way. His left leg was draped over the ornately decorated armrest of the great carved chair on one side, his elbow resting on the other, his head supported at the temple by his closed fist. His shoulder length black hair was slicked back from his face. He was looking at me, smiling maliciously.  
“How long have you known?” he asked. “Known? About 2 minutes. Suspected? Since Thor left.” I answered. “So, I fooled all of Asgard apart from one little handmaiden? What gave me away?”  
“I have been a trusted servant of this house for a long time, before Frigga was murdered by Malekith, and Odin’s chosen successor to the throne had forsaken Asgard to spend his life with a Midgardian woman. The Odin I know would have been grief-stricken, yet you were acting like you didn’t care. True, you had supposedly died in Svartalfheim, but faking your own death should be easily within your capabilities. You are the god of mischief and deceit, after all. You are also too selfish to sacrifice your own life willingly, even if it was to avenge your mother.”  
“She wasn’t really my mother though, was she?” He spat. A glint of rage flashed across his face.  
“She loved you like a son nonetheless.”  
In a flash, he was in front of me, his hand around my throat, taking my breath away and nearly lifting me off the floor. “Are you afraid of me?” he hissed. “Of course I am!” I gasped, hardly able to breathe, bright lights flashing across my vision as I teetered on the brink of unconsciousness. The pressure on my windpipe easing a little, he smirked. Cool air filled my lungs, and I continued “You are Loki of Jotunheim, a frost giant, capable of powerful magic and deception. Not to fear you would be stupid!” He grinned at me, and replied “Good answer.”  
“So, what should I do with you, now you know my secret?” He asked me. I thought for a moment, then replied “Well, you could kill me, but that would probably arouse suspicion. Odin isn’t known for executing servants for a word spoken out of turn, is he? You could lock me in a dungeon, but I suspect you won’t get any satisfaction out of that, either. I fear my future is going to be somewhat more… complicated.”  
He released his chokehold on me completely, and took a step back, looking at me contemplatively. “Maybe there is some way I could punish you that would also satisfy me…” he murmured. He moved in close to me again, this time his left hand rested on the column, just above my head, his tall, graceful body almost touching my bare breasts, his head close to mine. “Let’s see what you have to offer” he whispered in my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck. My pulse quickened. I heard the sound of his ornate dagger sliding from its scabbard at his hip, that distinctive sound of steel on leather, felt the point of the blade resting against the soft flesh below my navel and then start to move upwards. The keen edge made short work of my belt, and the tattered fabric of my tunic slid to the floor. My breathing was fast and shallow as the cold knife continued to trace a path upwards and finally came to rest against the lowest part of my throat, in the little hollow where my collarbones met. “I’d keep still, if I were you.” He warned. His glittering green eyes inches from mine.  
I glanced downward and noticed he was no longer dressed. The green coat, linen shirt and brown doeskin breeches he had been wearing had disappeared by magic, and his slender, smooth body towered above me in all its glory. Quicker still my heart beat, and the wetness between my legs betrayed my arousal. I could feel his large, hard member resting first against my lower abdomen, then, slowly, move downwards through the soft, curly hair covering my privates, searching for that wet, dark place between my legs. I couldn’t deny I wanted him.  
A gasp escaped me, I shuddered as he pushed inside me, and the dagger pierced the delicate skin it was resting against, sending a trickle of hot blood running between my breasts. “I told you to keep still” Loki chuckled. He filled me completely, hard as stone, and hot and icy cold at the same time somehow. He begun to move against me, sliding in and out of me, oh so slowly at first, but always gaining in momentum and ferocity. The knife was no longer against my throat, and I could feel his hand sliding over my breasts before pinching my erect right nipple between his long, elegant fingers, making me wince. A low, guttural grunt of satisfaction at my pain escaped his throat. His fingers traced the trail of blood across my chest. “Open your eyes… and your mouth!” He commanded, thrusting harder and faster all the while. I obeyed, his steely eyes fixed on mine, and, as my lips parted, he pushed two of his fingers inside, the metallic taste of my own blood filling my mouth. His hand slipped around my throat again as he licked the bloodstains from my lips with his skilled tongue. My climax hit suddenly, and without warning. I tried to supress the moan building in my throat to hide the orgasm wracking my body, but the knowing smirk on Loki’s red lips, and the glint in his eyes, told me he knew.  
Deeper and harder still he pushed inside me, my bare back grating against rough stone, abrading my skin; my arms bracing against the rope binding me to the great pillar. On and on he went, and just as it seemed like I could take no more, I felt his body convulse and his member twitch inside me and knew he was finally spent.  
He pushed away from me, breathing hard, and looked at me, grinning, as he used the bloody dagger to cut the bonds from my wrists.  
I slid to the cold marble floor, bloody and bruised and aching, my skin glistening with sweat. My long hair hid my sly smile. The pain and fear had made the pleasure all the more intense.  
“Maybe I will keep you around for a while, you amuse me.” Loki said, as he turned and strode away with his customary swagger, laughing, his clothes materialising around him as he went.  
“Do I?” I managed to answer, still trying to regain my breath. “Aren’t you worried I’ll reveal your true identity?” He laughed again. “Oh, you won’t be given the opportunity to do that, believe me. I will ALWAYS be near you now. From now on you are my personal servant, but you won’t be speaking, unless we’re alone.”


End file.
